Sundays with America
by ACM a.k.a. Annie May
Summary: England just wants to have a quiet Sunday afternoon with America.  America gets restless until England gives him a special book...


A/N and Warnings: This idea has probably been done before, but I couldn't resist trying to put my own spin on it. I don't like using the human names, so nation names are used. However, please don't take it too seriously. I'm trying to write them in character as they appear in the series, not make social commentary. Also, as in the series, I wanted this scene from their relationship to loosely depict an historical event. Technically the book came out on a Tuesday in America, but maybe he got to approve it by reading it ahead of time. So there you have it. Thanks and enjoy!

Sundays with America by ACM a.k.a. Annie May

England was a quiet kind of guy. He hadn't always been, sure, but now that his pirate days were over, he preferred the calm of an afternoon at home to a raucous adventure. However, with America around, that often wasn't possible. The man didn't know the meaning of "quiet." It wasn't that England didn't have a good time whenever America dragged him out of his comfort zone…which he did…several times…every day. And even their usual out-and-about activities were fun: playing football, going down the pub, being squeezed half to death while watching the scariest movie Hollywood could dish out. But those things, as far as England was concerned, were for Saturdays. On Sunday afternoons, England liked to stretch out on the sofa with a good book, America in his lap, and a cup of tea by his side. But America wasn't having that. It would go something like this:

"Englaaaaaaand! I'm bored! Let's go out!" America whined, looking up at England with a plaintive expression in his wide blue eyes.

England would sigh, for the fifteenth time, and ignore him.

"If we're gonna sit here, can't we at least play video games? This is boring!"

England lowered his book and glanced down at America.

"It wouldn't be so boring if you brought something to read."

America twisted his mouth in disgust. "You know I don't like to read."

England chuckled. "I'm not even sure you _can_."

"Hey! I can read. I've got tons of great universities, remember? It's not that I'm bad at this stuff! I just don't see the point of staying inside reading when it's a beautiful day outside! Let's go play basketball!"

England grimaced. "No, I'd rather stay here."

America laughed. "You're just saying that because you suck at it."

"Why you!"

England reached down to tickle him, which turned into making out, which turned into…another Sunday afternoon that wasn't particularly quiet.

But this Sunday was different. This time, England had a plan.

"Hey America," he said, casually strolling into the living room. America, mesmerized by the inane cartoon he was watching, didn't hear him at first.

"America!" England repeated. America jumped, sending a few crisps flying.

"Oh, hey England!" he said, smiling his trademark smile. "Sleep well?"

England huffed. "You know perfectly well that I did not."

America's smile didn't falter. "Yeah, but you liked it." His attention returned to the screen.

England sat for a few moments, wondering if America would ask him about the package in his arms. Eventually he gave up.

"America…" he said tentatively, a light blush coming to his cheeks. Oh, he knew how to act the part. "I have a present for you. Would you mind turning off the TV for a bit?"

America, who was like a child when it came to getting presents, instantly complied with his request. He yanked the package out of England's hands and eagerly tore off the paper. His face fell when he discovered the contents.

"Oh, it's a book…Um, thanks, England…"

England had expected this reaction. "Since you never seem to have a book when I want to read with you, I thought I had better give you one. Now you don't have an excuse," he announced triumphantly, adding "Don't worry, it doesn't have too many big words."

America glared at him, then looked back at the book, examining it as though it were a disgusting insect.

"_Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_. Philosophy? Sounds pretty dull, man."

Out of sheer frustration, England whipped out a Sharpie, drew a large "x" over the word "Philosopher's" and replaced it with "Sorcerer's."

"There. See, it's about magic. Witches, wizards…It's very exciting!" he promised.

America still looked skeptical. "Magic? Did you get this from your 'fairy friends?'" he asked, making air quotes around the last two words.

Rolling his eyes, England picked up the book and _lovingly_ rapped America over the head with it.

"Just read it!" England shouted, going back to his room to get his own book. When he returned to the sofa, America was still staring at the book and rubbing his injured head. Catching sight of England he picked up the book and tried to appear as though he had been reading it the entire time. England stretched his legs out across America's lap and tried to lose himself in his book.

"_If this doesn't work, I don't know what I'll do…"_

The next day at the World Meeting, everyone could tell something was different about America. He wasn't talking as much as usual. When he did, he would sometimes stumble over his words or drop some of his papers, and when he wasn't talking, he would rest his head on his portfolio, only to snap his head up and nod eagerly from time to time, regardless of what was being said. He was clearly suffering the effects of sleep deprivation.

France noticed this and raised an eyebrow teasingly at England, inclining his head towards America. England merely smirked back, knowing that America wasn't tired for the reason that France thought. It was so much better.

America had stayed up all night reading and re-reading the book he had given him. When England had gone to make his morning tea, he had found America passed out at the kitchen table, his messy hair splayed across the pages and a little trickle of drool issuing from his mouth. England had smiled fondly at him…and taken a blackmail picture.

From then on, America didn't mind spending a quiet Sunday afternoon with England.


End file.
